Tales From Another Broken Home
by Hopelessly Jonas Bro Obsessed
Summary: Shane has been all alone in the world for as long as he can remember, constantly being passed from foster home to foster home. When a young boy and his brother recognize him, everything changes and Shane finds himself in a battle for his loved one's lives
1. Chapter 1

In an old warehouse about 3 miles away from the nearest town was a group of men. They hustled about, busy with the work that their boss had ordered them to do. In a small, dark room that looked like a prison cell there was a small toddler huddled in the corner. He was huddled in the corner, afraid that the men who had hurt him would come back. The door banged open and the boy jumped back. A small group of men walked in.

"Come on, you little twerp, we gotta go," one of the men growled.

"Where are we going?" the boy asked quietly. One of the men turned and slapped him across the face, causing the young boy to burst into tears.

"Don't ask questions, you little shit," the man hissed, "And stop crying." The young boy sniffled a little and stopped the crying, tears still flowing down his face. The men led the boy outside, through the pouring rain, and to a car with bars on the back windows. The boy was forced into the backseat and buckled in. As the car started moving, all of the men were talking in low voices.

"What are we going to do with him after we get rid of him?" one asked.

"Dump his body on their front porch to show them we mean business," the driver growled.

The young boy heard this and started trembling in fear, trying to imagine why these men were doing this. The rain pounded harder on the roof and the road outside the windows was all but invisible through the water. The tires suddenly squealed and the van jerked around, tossing everyone inside back and forth.

No one noticed that the bars on the back window had become loose; no one but the boy. He climbed up while the men's attention was else where and slipped out the back window, jumping onto the ground below. He didn't realize how fast the van had been going so the young boy was shocked at the hard impact. The van had driven off out of sight and now the boy was alone. He started hiking the opposite way the van had come from.

The nearest town was miles away in the direction he was headed. He walked until his legs couldn't carry him and he had to lay down. The young boy curled up into a ball on the side of the road and slept. Another car came along that road just minutes later. The couple inside immediately pulled over when they spotted the boy. They carefully picked him up and placed him in the back of their car, driving back to town to take him home.

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**This is darker than my usual style, but i've had this idea in my head for a while so i thought i'd sit down and write it, then i hated it, rewrote it, hated it, rewrote it, gave up, forgot about it for a few weeks, and decided to work on it today. This is just and intro chapter so the other chapters will be longer.**

**For those of you who have read my other stories and have seen me saying that i've been working on 9 (or 10) stories, this is the 9th (or 10th) story. i came up with this idea about the same time as Shelf or before but i'm just now putting it up.**

**For those of you who are confused, this'll make more sense in the next chapter, which i'll try to get up ASAP.**


	2. Chapter 2

The day was normal, well… as normal as a day could be for me anyway. I woke up to my foster mom, Elizabeth Tayson, screaming at me to make breakfast for her and her husband, my foster dad, Shawn. I got dressed and ran into the kitchen. Her eyes followed me carefully, in a hateful glare, as I made eggs and bacon. Shawn came out of his room as I placed everything on the table. Before I could realized what was happening, I was on the ground. The plate of hot bacon had, mercifully, landed right side up. Shawn laughed and pulled his foot back. I picked up the plate, slipped a piece into my pocket, and ran back to my room. Shaving the piece of bacon in my mouth, I grabbed my backpack and ran out of the front door and to school, a mile away.

"I wasn't popular at school but I wasn't unpopular either. People passed me in the hall like I wasn't there. The exception was my best friend, Zack, who was waiting for me outside the front door, as usual.

""Hey, Shane, have you heard about the new kids?" he asked. Zack loved gossip. He knew everything before anyone.

"No," I said.

"They came in a few minutes ago," he said, "The kind of look like you."

I shot him an angry look and said "You know that's not funny."

Zack was the only one, besides teachers, who knew I've been in foster care as long as I can remember, and for good reason. He was constantly trying to help me find my family but he never really grasped how sensitive of a topic that was. It hurt thinking about how they didn't want me enough to just dump me into foster care.

When the bell rang, I saw the new kids. They were looking around for their class. One of them looked about a year younger than me, so a freshman. The other looked like a senior. The youngest had dark, curly hair and the oldest had the same color, just straight. I passed them on my way to class but didn't think anymore about them.

Zack and I were the last to Music Theory, except the youngest new kid. We sat down just as the bell rand and he stumbled into the doorway.

"I'll let it go today, Mr. Gray, but try not to be late to my class again," Mr. Williams scolded. The kid flushed and took the only empty seat in the room, the one next to me. Zack looked over at us from across the room, looking like he was trying to figure something out. I ignored him and attempted to pay attention to the teacher. The bell rang an hour later and I got up. The new kid and I collided on our way to the door.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay," I said, "I'm Shane." I stuck out my hand.

"Nate," he said, shaking it. Something pulled at the edges of my memory.

"Shane!" Zack called.

"I gotta go," I said to Nate and walked over to Zack.

I didn't see Nate or his brother for the rest of the day. Zack told me the other's name was Jason and they had math together. Again, I felt something tugging at the edges of my memory.

"You working today?" Zack asked. We both work at a local restaurant as bus boys. It was one of those fancy restaurants where Zack and I would have to pool together a years worth of paychecks to afford a meal.

"Yeah," I said. Most people would be bummed to work but I loved it. At least it got me away from my foster parents.

"I'll give you a ride," he said as we got out to the parking lot.

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**Took me long enough to update. PLEASE don't hate me for taking this long. I got bored in Algebra and started writing this, guess it pays to hate math. Anyway, enjoy, REVIEW, and that's it. Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving :D**


	3. Chapter 3

Work was unusually busy. Normally Zack and I had some time to do our homework or goof off. Today we were running around cleaning tables. By the time our shifts were over, we were exhausted. We collapsed in his car and just sat there for a while.

"If I never see a table again, I'll die happy," Zack groaned.

"I better get home before they get too pissed," I said reluctantly and we started to drive to my house. The drive seemed shorter than usual.

"See you tomorrow," Zack called as I got out of the car. I just nodded.

When I opened the door the smell of alcohol made me gag. Who go drunk before dinner? Shawn Tayson, that's who does.

"Where have you been?" he demanded drunkenly.

"Work," I muttered. Wrong answer apparently. I stumbled back at the power of his slap.

"Don't back talk me, boy," he shouted.

"Yes, sir," I said with some sarcasm but not enough he would notice.

"You're lucky I took your lazy ass in and dealt with it for 6 months," he muttered, "I could have just dumped you like your parents."

I bit back an insult that would probably get me killed.

"Go make dinner," Elizabeth ordered, appearing behind Shawn.

I walked off to the kitchen and angrily made dinner. Shawn wasn't the cause of my anger, though, my parents were. What was wrong with them anyway? It's a parent's job to take care of their kids, to raise them, and to love them, not get rid of them.

The next day I managed to make breakfast and leave before either of them woke up. Unfortunately, that meant arriving 45 minutes early when almost no one was there. I sat on a bench by the front doors, pulled out my notebook, and started writing a song, singing quietly to myself.

"Hey, Shane," Zack said and I jumped a little. Looking up, I notice the first round of buses has come and the parking lot was starting to fill up. I put my notebook away and stood up.

"Hey," I mumbled and started to walk into the school.

"Uh… Shane," Zack said, pointing to my left cheek. I felt what he was pointing at and winced. Where Shawn had slapped me must have bruised over.

"Shawn," I said and Zack understood. Zack knew about the physical abuse I took almost daily. He knew I couldn't tell anyone else because I could be put somewhere worse, plus neither of us wanted to loose our best friend.

"Is that all he did this time?" he asked. Normally I would be covered in bruises when Shawn had a go at me.

"Yeah, luckily for me," I said.

"We better get to class," he said as the first bell rang.

We got to class about a minute before the bell rang. Nate was already in his seat and he watched us come in. When I sat down I heard him gasp quietly and I remembered he was on my left and could clearly see the bruise.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"I, uh, fell and hit a rock," I said. He seemed to accept my answer.

Mr. Williams walking in just then and the room went silent.

"For you next assignment I'm going to divide you into groups of three," he said.

"Great," I muttered as he started rattling off names.

"Nate, Shane, and Zack," he said. I was glad I was with Zack and Nate didn't seem like a bad guy.

The rest of the class, Mr. Williams was dealing with complaints about groups, which meant he never got a chance to explain the assignment. When the bell rang, I left and walked with Zack to out next class, Biology. The rest of the day was uneventful, until I got home. Shawn was waiting for me when I walked into the house.

"Why are you wasting your time at school when you should be working for me," he growled.

"Because Social Services require it," I said.

"Don't be a smart ass," he said and slapped me on my bruise.

"Don't' be a jackass," I said, forcing back a cry of pain.

I didn't fully realize what I had said until I was on the floor, my stomach hurting. Before I could do anything, his foot collided with my nose and I felt something warm and sticky running down my face. Next his fist hit my left eye. I was going to have a black eye tomorrow, no doubt. He left me there after that. I waited until I heard his bedroom door close before I went to quickly make dinner and go to my room.

When I woke up the next morning, most of my face was throbbing. I looked in a mirror and saw a bruise on my nose. There was also the black eye that I had predicted and the bruise on my cheek was worse. I lifted up my shirt and saw another bruise on my stomach. If I went to school today then I would be stared at and questioned. I picked up my cell phone and called Zack.

"Hey, man, what's up?" he answered.

"Ditching today, Shawn had a go at me," I said simply.

"My house in 30 minutes," he said.

Zack was used to me ditching when things got too bad with Shawn. He would call the school from two different phones and use two different voices to get us out. We would meet up at his house and hang out there for the day. His parents were never home because they were almost always at work. I would walk over to his house and let myself in with the key under a flower pot. It was a bad hiding place because the cheap looking pot stood out surrounded by a mansion and expensive decorations. Zack's parents were rich but he worked because his parents thought he should make his own money.

"Hey, man," he said when I found him in the kitchen. He was rummaging through the freezer for an ice pack already. "Damn!" he exclaimed, turning to look at me.

"Better make it two ice packs," I said, showing him the bruise under my shirt. "Is it really that bad?" I asked.

"Half your face is black and blue, you look like an alien or something," he said, tossing me the ice packs.

We walked into the living room and popped in a movie. I wasn't paying close attention to the movie, thought, the ice pack's coldness was distracting. After a while I fell asleep.

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**Already started working on the next chapter (thank you math for being so boring) so that should be posted soon. I'll try to work on it today but not promises. Anyway, PLEASE review!**


	4. AN

**Quick note about this story, I'm putting it on a (hopefully) short hiatus. Some (pardon my language) jackasses at school stole 2 notebooks from my backpack while i was getting food at lunch. One was a science notebook which was gonna be a study guide for a test coming up, and the other was the notebook where i write down fanfics. Now what does any of this have to do with this story? The next chapter (which was almost done) was in there and now i'm positive that if i even try to rewrite it i'm gonna kill off all of the good characters in an evil and torturous way, which is not something i wanna do. Think of it like what Stephenie Meyer did when Midnight Sun was leaked, for you Twihards. I just can't update this story right now, other stories, sure, because they weren't stolen. By the way, what kind of IDIOT steals a science notebook?! And the other notebook will make no sense to them because it's the last chapter of CRCS and the last 2 chapters of this so they won't know what the hell it is. And if i even SEE them with my notebooks then i feel sorry for the janitor because i heard blood stains are hard to get rid of! And i'm not kidding, i will LITERALLY kill them. Anyway, needed to rant there, but basically this is on hiatus until a) i get my notebook back, b) i kill the person/people who stole it, or c) i calm down (which could be a few weeks).**


	5. Chapter 4

I woke up around 3 that afternoon to Zack shaking me. Groggily, I sat up, dropping the ice packs on the floor, and looked at the clock. School was over by now and neither of us had to work today so there was no excuse to stay any longer. The bruises weren't throbbing as badly now but still hurt. I caught a glimpse of my reflection and noticed the bruising had gone down. By tomorrow I would be able to go to school without any problem.

"I'll give you a ride home," Zack said, helping me stand up.

"Thanks, man," I said and followed him to his car.

The ride to my house was quiet, as usual. There was no smell of alcohol waiting for me or any screaming. There was no sign of anyone being home besides me. I loved anytime I got the house to myself because it gave me a chance to play my guitar and sing as loudly as I want. That's exactly what I did for the next hour. When I heard the front door squeak open, I dumped my guitar in the room and dashed into the kitchen.

"Where are you?" I heard Shawn scream.

"I-in the kitchen," I choked out, wincing at the images in my head of what he would do to me.

"And you think you would just get away with that?" he growled, walking into view.

"Get away with what?" I asked.

"You ditched school," he yelled advancing towards me.

I took a few steps back, stumbled, and fell to the ground. Shawn towered over me, making me feel like a bug about to be squashed.

"I-I had to, or people would start asking questions," I stuttered.

"If you're going to be wasting time that should be used for serving me, then it's going to be for something other than goofing off!" he yelled, pulled out a knife, and advanced on me.

The first thing that hit me was the horrible smell coming off of him, the next was the knife. Even as my stomach screamed in pain and bled, I realized he smelled like pot. That was the last thing I registered before he came at me with the knife again. I weakly raised my arm to stop him, resulting in a painful slash in my arm.

"P-p-please," I begged.

"Shut up," he growled and stabbed the knife through my arm before leaving.

I clutched my arm but didn't dare utter a sound while Shawn could hear me or he'd come back. I pressed my lips together and pulled the knife out of my arm, forcing back a scream. More blood poured out of the wound. Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it tightly around my arm, just above the wound. I took another one and used it as a bandage. I crawled into my room and took off my blood-stained shirt to check the cut on my stomach. The bleeding wasn't subsiding at all. I was gonna need to go to the hospital or I could likely bleed out. There was no way to get there while my foster parents were awake. They would notice if I left the house at all. I just had to hope I lasted a few more hours.

As I waited for them to fall asleep, I placed a towel over my stomach and tried to apply pressure but it hurt too much to keep up the pressure for long. Laying down slowed down the bleeding but I was feeling weaker with every passing minute. Finally, around ten or eleven, I heard snoring from their room. I picked up my cell phone and quietly called Zack.

"Hey, why are you calling this late?" Zack complained when he picked up the phone.

"Shawn had a knife and I need to get to the hospital," I said my voice weak. He must have heard the pain in my voice because he agreed and hung up quickly.

While I was waiting for Zack, I tried to get up and get to the door. The second I tried to sit up, I collapsed back on the bed, passing out from blood loss.

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**So this is my first update for the one week deadline thing I talked about on Twitter. Basically I have to update ALL of my stories in one week, the deadline started yesterday, and all chapters must be over 1 page long on Microsoft Word. If I do it then I'll post 2 new stories, if not, then I can't :( and I wanna post the stories SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO badly so I wanna update!**

**Follow me on Twitter at HJBOWriter**

**Oh, and this story is going to be part of a trilogy! yes, that's right, I actually had enough ideas to form 2 more stories for after this.**


	6. The End

**I don't know if anyone is subscribed to this still or if anyone even READS Camp Rock stories anymore because it's been so long but here it goes. Yes, I am finally posting something after almost 2 years (I think, just guessing). I just want to let you know that I am fine, I have not disappeared off the face of the earth, etc. I kind of went through a tough time in my life and have been battling with a lot of issues going on. 2 years ago this January, shortly before I stopped posting, I got diagnosed with Crohn's disease (don't remember if I've mentioned that before) and I started getting really depressed and was having a rough(er than normal) time at school. It's gotten better and I am currently debating going back into writing fan fictions if I have the time but I want to be clear that IF I do, it won't be for Camp Rock. I've been playing around with a few shows lately and have a few ideas for those but I won't be going back to these stories and the ones I post (again, IF I post) would be on a separate account. The 2 main reasons I'm not continuing are that I don't remember 95% of what I had planned out and that I don't really get inspired from Camp Rock anymore. I really appreciate all of you reading my stories and reviewing and all of that but I've just moved on.**

**ATTENTION SHEWHOSHALLWRITE if you still are subscribed to me and reading this and you still write fan fictions for Camp Rock, if you want to, PM me and I can give you basic outlines of what I remember I was planning for the stories and you can continue them. Also, sorry for not being on IM but I've been kinda jumping around laptops and having mild computer issues (because they seem to hate me) so, sorry.**

**LAST THING! and then I guess I'm done... IF I decide to post, right now it's looking like it'll be Glee and/or The Mentalist stuff (my 2 big obsessions right now) but could really end up being anything and if you're interested, feel free to PM me and I can tell you the new account name.**

**Again, I'm really sorry for my long absence and I really wish I was still inspired by these stories but I'm just not. Thank you. And, if I come across any old chapters on my computer or get the sudden urge to write for Camp Rock again, you guys will be the first to know.**

**HJBO**


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